29. Noah
NOAH
FOUR YEARS AGO
As I pull up outside the rickety old bar, I can already smell the stench of piss and alcohol wafting in the air. This is where souls go that need to stay hidden. Nice people don’t go to a place like this.
My door opens, and the sounds of the bar drift out on the breeze. Old rock and roll, the sounds of billiards cracking against the old wooden tables, bar glasses clinking as the men and women down their beers.
The door is barely hanging on by the hinges as I push my way inside. A murmur starts among a group in the back when they see me walk in, and it quickly spreads. A hush falls over the room. The only sounds are the jukebox still playing in the corner and the few men laughing along the bar rail.
One man sits alone at the end. His jacket collar is pulled up, shoulders hunched as he leans over his drink.
Both hands wrapped around the glass of amber liquid, clutching it like it’s his lifeline.
He blends in with the crowd of people; I’m the one who stands out.
This could end up being dangerous for me.
When I was tracking him tonight, I never expected that this would be his destination. If I had, I wouldn’t be wearing a black Ralph Lauren suit that makes me stand out like a sore thumb.
I take the stool two down from the man and flag down the bartender. He eyes me skeptically as he walks over, cleaning a glass with a towel.
“What can I get you?” he asks, looking over my suit one last time before sneering.
“I’ll take whatever he’s got,” I gesture to my target two stools down. “And bring him another. On me.”
The bartender looks over at the man at the end and grunts before walking away.
“Why’d you do that, boy?” my target asks.
“One loner to another.”
He laughs, a gruff, raspy laugh, filled with hate that has a chill running down my spine.
It’s the same one I remember. If Willow heard it, she’d quickly usher me out of her window onto the roof. I’d have to watch her break down in tears, not able to do a single fucking thing but climb down off the roof and run home, praying that she’d be unharmed the next day.
James Parker. It’s actually him.
“Who said I’m a loner? Plus,” he turns and faces me finally, “you don’t look much like a loner to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving, ol’ man.”
His lip curls at my response before he picks back up his glass and downs the rest of whatever it was. The years haven’t been kind to him. Good to know after all this time, he still hasn’t given up the bottle. That should make my job a little easier.
“Here,” the bartender grumbles before setting down another glass and pouring me a drink, then topping off James’ glass.
“Thanks,” I say, nodding and handing him a fifty. “Keep it.”
He snatches a marker off the back counter behind him and marks the bill before nodding and walking away, pocketing the fifty. A lot of men like him don’t give a fuck what happens around them, as long as they’re paid. The right price buys anyone’s silence.
“Cheers,” I say gruffly.
I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. The taste of the whiskey is smoky, with only a hint of dish soap still clinging to the glass.
“So, you from around here, boy?”
“Nope. Just passing through.”
“At this time of night?” he scoffs.
“Yep,” I finally say after sitting here for a few seconds in silence.
“Girlfriend?” he asks skeptically.
When I don’t answer, he eyes me up and down again before laughing to himself and picking up the topped off glass.
“Or maybe boyfriend?” he asks.
“Why? You interested?” I tease, looking him straight in the eyes when I say this.
I can see the rage starting to spark behind those cold, dead eyes. Maybe there’s some life I can drag out of him still.
“I’m only fucking with you, ol’ man. Chill out,” I taunt, downing the last sip of the small drink.
They could at least give a guy a decent pour here. The song changes on the juke box, and the sound of a small argument breaking out fills the air. The bartender shouts over to them right before the sound of a chair cracking over someone’s head grabs our attention.
The fight is over within a few seconds when the larger of the two men punches the other in the jaw, laying him out flat.
Two men, I’m assuming the knocked-out guy's buddies, pick him up and drag him over to a booth in the corner.
They toss him onto the seat before rejoining the group to play some pool.
“So, what brings you here tonight? Was it for the lively entertainment or just the drinks?” I ask as we both turn back around and watch each other in the dingy mirror behind the bar.
“Like you. Just passing through,” he says as he holds the glass again with his two hands clutched around it.
His thumb lazily runs up and down the glass. You can see where the grime build-up from not being rinsed correctly is starting to rub off. Nasty. Remind me to brush my teeth and gargle bleach after this.
“Heading to see your family?” I ask curiously.
My curiosity doesn’t fail. His body visibly stiffens at my question. His jaw clenches, and his grip tightens on the glass.
“Nope. Don’t have any family anymore.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I tell him, trying to keep the venom out of my words.
“I just don’t understand what someone like you would be doing in a place like this,” he says, swirling his finger lazily in the air as he gestures to the crowd around us.
“I told you. I’m just passing through and wanted a drink.”
“You don’t belong here,” he growls softly.
It’s as if he doesn’t want to offend me, or maybe the other bar patrons. Who knows?
“Another?” the bartender asks.
“No thanks. I’ll be leaving. Thanks for the company, ol’ man. Maybe I’ll see you again someday,” I say as I stand and turn to face him once more.
I hold my hand out for James to shake, but he just stares at it like it’s a weapon. Which, honestly, my hands could be considered weapons from how much blood I’ve spilled with them alone.
“I don’t bite,” I tease before I reach my hand closer to him.
“Sure, boy. Maybe you’ll see me again someday,” he huffs before taking my hand in a tight grip.
I walk back to my car and wait. The cool night air rushes into my lungs as I finally escape the stench of that place. I can still smell the cigarette smoke clinging to my skin. It’s disgusting.
I pull out my phone and call Monty while I wait. This fucker still hasn’t gotten me any new information, and I’m going to strangle him the next time I see him.
“Sup, fucker?”
“I found him.”
“I know. I’m looking at your little green dot. It’s right next to the little red dot. What the fuck are you doing in a place like that, Anderson?”
“I didn’t choose to be here. I just followed him,” I growl as I rub my temples. This man gives me a headache.
“Well, just watch yourself. It’s not a bar known for their beer and burger specials, if you know what I mean,” he laughs before a bubbling sound can be heard, followed by his deep inhale.
“Are you seriously getting high right now? What about what I asked you to do?”
“Chill. I still have the trace going, and it’s tracking his movements all the way back to when he got the phone, okay?”
“I need to find her, Monty.”
He’s been helping me with this ever since I got his charges dropped.
I asked him about his trade, told him Willow’s story, and he was hooked.
Apparently, the fucker is a big softy for true love, so he’s making it his mission to help me find Willow.
He doesn’t know everything I do, but he has helped me track down a few of these motherfuckers.
“I know, Noah. I’m trying. We’ll find her.”
The back door is suddenly kicked open, and a man is tossed out onto the grass. He gets back up quickly and starts to stumble toward the door, cussing and fighting, but they just slam it shut in his face.
“Monty, I gotta go.”
“Everything good, Boss?”
“The universe just dropped the devil in my lap.”
He lets out a dark chuckle before I can hear the clicking of him typing on his computer.
“Want me to send someone to pick up the car? It’s a blue Honda Civic.”
“Yeah. He won’t be driving it. I’ll leave the keys in the gas cap.”
“Have fun, Boss.”
The line goes silent, and I can hear my heart racing. The blood is pumping so fast with each heartbeat, it’s like a rapid thumping in my ears.
This is it. Eleven fucking years, and I’m finally one step closer to finding the woman I love. The woman whose life he ruined before disappearing. I know she’s out there somewhere, and I hope to God he’s the key to finding her.
If not, well, at least I’ll have someone to keep me company until I do find her. I wonder how long I can keep him alive before his heart finally stops.
“Fuck you, you fucking bastards,” he shouts as he punches the steel door one last time before screaming to the sky. “Fuck!”
I can’t help the sickening grin that spreads across my face as I watch him stumble to his car.
He trips twice before falling onto the busted-up gravel.
When he stands and wipes his hands on his jeans, the dim parking lot lights catch the smear of blood down his pant-leg.
Damnit, and here I thought I’d get to make him bleed first.
I quietly open my door, making sure the interior lights are off so he doesn’t notice me.
But judging by how off balance he is, I don’t think he would have noticed anyway.
My footsteps are nearly silent as I glance around the half-filled parking lot.
Everyone’s still inside, drinking and enjoying their evening.
James must have gotten rowdy or pissed off the wrong person.
Bad luck for him, wonderful luck for me.
No cameras. No cars are passing on the road. Hell, I haven’t even heard the sound of an owl or a coyote all night. The world is dead, except for the noise from the bar.
“Stupid fucking…Shit,” he curses as he drops his keys when he gets to his car.
He bends forward to grab them and slams his head against his car door. Jesus, he’s drunk.
As he struggles to grab his keys from the ground and then stands back up, I slowly step up behind him. I can see myself in the reflection of his window, just peering over his shoulder. I watch while his body sways back and forth as he struggles to get the key into the lock, then stops.
His eyes squint, then widen as he finally registers the second reflection staring back at him in the dingy glass.
“What the fu…”
*Crack*
I don’t let him finish his sentence. I slam his face into his car, and then a second time for good measure before he crumples to the ground in a heap. Blood trickles from his forehead and his nose. I can see where part of the rusted frame has cracked off and embedded itself in his forehead.
I take a second to glance around before locking the car and putting the keys inside the gas cap lid. Not a single thing has moved out here since I stepped out of this bar.
Glancing one last time at the lone house across the road, I can see all its lights are still off for the night. No one heard a single thing. No one saw. Perfect.
I grab him roughly by the shoulder and lift him, hoisting his drunken, dead weight over my shoulder. He smells disgusting, like old gym clothes, alcohol, and cigarettes. How long has it been since he’s showered? Gross.
I pop the trunk and toss his body in. I grab a few zip-ties and wrap them around his wrists and ankles before I take the duct tape and wrap it around his head a few times to keep him silent. I don’t need him swinging on me if he manages to wake up by the time I get him back to the house.
My house.
My sanctuary.
*Ring* *Ring*
Jeremy’s name flashes on my screen as I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot.
“Sup?”
“Hey, where you at?”
“Just went for a late-night drive.”
“On a Tuesday? You’re so weird, Cuz. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come over. My new neighbor and her friend are sitting out on my porch enjoying the fire pit. This one’s pretty. I think you’d like her.”
“Which one? The neighbor or the friend?”
“The friend. I call dibs on the neighbor. She’s perfect for me, Noah.”
“You say that about every woman you meet, Remy,” I laugh as I hit a deep pothole and can hear James’s body getting tossed around in the cramped space.
“Listen, you’re the one who can’t get over a childhood crush. At least I’m living in the now, fucker.”
“I am living in the now, and right now, I’m busy. Sorry, Jeremy. You’re going to either have to woo them both, or just wait for another night.”
“Did you just say woo? How old are you? Jesus,” he laughs as I start to hear voices in the background.
“Jeremy, you coming?”
“Gotta go, Cuz. Thanks for nothing.”
The phone call ends, and I’m left in complete, blissful silence. Hopefully, he has fun tonight. Either he ends up with two women in bed, or I’ll be hearing about how I’m the one at fault for him getting cock blocked. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me.
I have my target secured. One of the two people I’ve been searching eleven years for. The missing piece that will hopefully get me one step closer to finding my little rabbit.